Tag: poetry

Tattoos are Not For Me

Tattoos are not for me, and though I admire their artistry

My body would not make for a good tapestry

Colorful patterns, curving lines and creatures

Would look poorly on my shape

Good tattoos depend on anatomy most fine

And limbs and torsos that gracefully align

For if the body should expand after the tattoo is drawn

The artistry would be a mocking jape

Tattoos, as well, involve a modicum of pain

Coming in for sharp sessions again and again

I am averse to such things and not partial to needles

So why endure something I hate?

And now you can see

Why tattoos are not for me.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“

Charley Horse

Charley Horse is riding again

Up and down, up and down

Fast enough to make my head spin

Riding hard and fast as the stormy wind

He rides in the night silent as a lamb

I don’t hear him coming

Then bam!

He tramples my leg, turns it outside in

I scowl and I seethe and I hang on tight

Charley Horse ain’t slowing down

I hold on fast and try to rein in his might

But Charley Horse is away. He’ll be back again.

***

Many thanks for visiting my blog. I post updates on my writing career, I muse over storytelling and fiction, and I reflect on the curious and wonderful things in life.

“Hermes is not having the best time. He walks a fine line, and his duty as messenger of Olympus weighs heavily on him. Being a god in the modern age means living in a world that no longer believes in gods. How much can one deity accomplish when no one respects him anymore? And why do his instincts tell him that he, the son of Zeus, is losing favor with his own family?

Tensions abound. The upstart Young Gods play dangerous games using entire cities as their boards. Formless monsters strike from the nighttime shadows, terrorizing hapless mortals. Agents of rival pantheons scheme to thwart Olympus’ designs. In the thick of it all, Hermes does what he does best: trick, lie, and cheat his way to victory.“